Love the way you lie
by DarknessBloodAngel
Summary: Lies, deceit, and bruises - Jack hates them all, and yet he can't bring himself to leave them behind. Contains slash, if you don't like, don't read.


**(A/N) Ok, so I bet you guys are like "WHAT!" at the pairing, but believe me, I feel the same way about Kick. So, I'm trying out a new pairing, might be the only story I write for this couple, but I like it because it's kind of like Draco/Harry from Harry Potter,**

**A word of warning though, this story deals with serious issues like relationship abuse, so if that isn't your thing, don't flame just because you chose to read the story, I didn't make you. (Right, you sit there, you there, shut up and look at the words... XD - Just kidding guys).**

**Also, it might be a bit confusing, but I haven't done my usual flashback thing with the italics, it's because Jack is remembering those things there, not then, so it doesn't have the whole back-story type thing to it. That, and the song's in italics (you might catch on to why I chose it when you finish reading).**

**Enjoy and leave reviews. Haters are gonna hate (and I know there are some, so try me, I dare you), so there's nothing I can do. But everyone is entitled to their opinion.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song Love the way you lie part 2, or any of the parts I've used, it belongs to it's respective owners, even though I have no idea who they are.**

~Kickin' it~

Jack slid his key into the lock, silently opening the door, and closing it behind him. He felt like he was on a Kamikaze mission, even as he put his keys in the bowl which resided on the mahogany cabinet near the door. If Frank heard him, especially back this late - his boss was out sick, and Jack was the only one who could cover for him - it would usually start with an argument, and it would finish with bruising on either of them.

Frank was extremely posessive, although Jack would have never put it past him to be like that when they was younger. Back when they were rivals.

_On the first page of our story  
The future seemed so bright  
Then this thing turned out so evil  
I don't know why I'm still surprised_

A smile formed on Jack's face as he remembered how he and Frank came to be. It had been over yet _another _squabble between the Black Dragon's and the Wasabi Warriors, that time it was over Milton and Julie's break-up. They had insisted it was mutual to Rudy, who understood, but Ty wanted "payback" for his niece's heartbreak. So, he'd sent Frank and his friends to "deal with them".

Jack, being the guy who always saved everyone during those type of confrontations, had rushed over to Milton and blocked one of Frank's punches, using his famous catchphrase - "You probably shouldn't have done that". Jack smile grew as his own voice echoed in his head, and the feel of Frank's closed hand in his palm seemed to materialize into solid reality.

What happened next, was something he never would have suspected - Frank had gotten ahold of his shirt, and yanked him forwards, crushing their lips together. Jack fondly touched his lips in remembrance, and then chuckled as the conversation between them afterwards played in his brain. It was ingrained there, it would never leave him.

"Should I have done_ that_?" Frank had asked him, a grin on his face. He had been breathless from a combination of the fight and the kiss.

"Probably not, no." Jack had responded, kissing him back and thus setting the future in motion, with no idea of what was to come.

_Even angels have their wicked schemes  
And you take that to new extremes  
But you'll always be my hero  
Even though you've lost your mind_

Over the years - the rest of the Wasabi Warriors were surprised they were still together - Frank had started to get a little possessive of him, and angry if he did even the littlest thing, slightly wrong. He would yell, and scream, while Jack would argue back. He had never been one for backing down during an argument, and theirs were the type that didn't stop until one of them had won, and one of them had lost.

Jack bit his tongue as he thought about the one thing Frank had said during a fiery confrontation, and how it had silenced him, bringing him to his knees.

"You're such an idiot sometimes Jack!" Frank's angry voice revolved around in Jack's head, and his fist clenched subconsciously by his side. "No wonder you've lost all your friends!" Jack however, knew that it, or he wasn't the reason. It had been Frank.

He had claimed he was worried about him whenever he was gone longer than he expected, but Jack knew that underneath that worry, jealousy and paranoia were eating away at him, caking him in a green mist which allowed him to see everything from the wrong perspective. And it was because of his new perspective on life, Frank had separated him from his friends.

Jack tiptoed into the living room - careful not to put too much pressure on the floor, and avoid the creaky floorboard all together - and through the dim glow of the moonlight's beam which penetrated the cream fabric of the curtains, he saw a photo of him and Frank, smiling.

They had sweet moments too, and Jack missed them, often more than he missed going skateboarding with Kim, or going to Kung Fu lightning concerts with Jerry.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts  
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
But that's alright because I love the way you lie  
I love the way you lie  
Ohhh, I love the way you lie_

Jack closed his eyes, still standing in the living room, and scoured his brain for the memory of the times he desperately craved, and needed back. He felt triumphant when he found it, and a scene began to play out in front of him behind his closed eyes - a field, a large stretch of all different shades of green as far as the eye could see, laughter began to echo in his ears, along with whooshing air, and the occasional thump, with the wildlife teeming in the background.

"Come on Frank, catch the damn ball already!" Jack's voice yelled as he watched Frank fumbling in the long grass for the rugby ball. The curly hair popped up and Frank held the ball up, tossing it over to Jack.

"It's hard!" Jack chuckled as he saw Frank's pout and puppy-dog eyes from miles away. He caught the ball in cupped hands, bringing them and the ball in towards his stomach.

"No it's not! I used to suck at this game." Jack retorted. Frank stuck his tongue out at him, Jack laughed before launching the ball into the air.

Jack opened his eyes, tearing himself away from the memory. He shook his head, and walked into the kitchen. He eyed the dent in the wall, and the various chips of paint. Jack breathed out and ran his fingers over the dent, and then over the soft skin of his cheek where his first bruise had been - an ugly purple thing which scarred the flawless flesh.

This was where the fights began changing, getting more and more aggressive. That was after Frank's father had died, and he developed a drinking problem, as well as an angry alter-ego, whose favourite target seemed to be Jack.

But he didn't sit there and take it, no. He fought back, he was a third degree black belt in Karate and he didn't learn it just so he could swing swords around and run up walls and do backflips, he did it to defend himself. And he'd done exactly that.

Jack bit his lip as the turning point in their relationship flooded his mind, and he was met with a scene he didn't want to remember.

_Now there's gravel in our voices  
Glass is shattered from the fight  
And this tug of war, you'll always win  
Even when I'm right_

They had been arguing - as per usual - this time about Frank's drinking problem. Most of the time, he just insisted he was fine, and would get help, but he never did.

"Frank, you need help! You can't keep going on like this!" Jack's voice had been calm, and cool. He had learned quite quickly he would have to tread on eggshells around Frank when he had been drinking.

"You don't know _anything_, Jack!" Frank always went straight to the yelling. Jack had no idea why, he guessed it was a way of trying to intimidate him. But it never worked, Jack knew nothing ever intimidated him, clowns never intimidated him, just freaked him out, but it _was _thanks to Frank he had actually conquered the fear.

"Just calm down already!" Jack had yelled back. He would always show Frank he wasn't a mouse to squash under his boot, and come back strong, but Frank would come back even stronger, before it turned it a battle of fiery words being swung back and forth between them.

"You're yelling too!" Frank had screamed at him.

"Because you're yelling at me!" Jack retorted.

He had seen the punch before it had landed, and caught it. He had refused to be a punchbag. He'd thrown it to the side, Frank swaying with the force, and he put his hands up - in defense, not offense. Something in Frank's eyes changed that night, but it wasn't anger, it was _rage_. Jack knew it must have been boiling for quite some time, and he was proven right when Frank had lunged for him.

"Right, that's it!" He had yelled after side-stepping him, and he had started to fight back.

Jack's eyes scanned the entire kitchen, memorizing every surface they had smashed each other into, bruised each other on, and cut each other on. It looked like a kitchen to a normal eye, but to people who knew where to look, and what they were trying to find, it was as clear-cut as freshly made glass.

Over time, the fights lost the technique, and they couldn't even be classed as "Karate fights" anymore, they were fighting like animals. Gouging, punching and shoving.

Jack almost shuddered at the thought of the worst one - he had suffered a split lip, broken nose, one burst eye socket, and severe bruising on his neck from where Frank had him in a choke-hold. Frank had came out the worst of the two - several of his ribs were broken, one of his eyes had been swollen shut, his right cheek was shattered, a heavily bleeding nose, and a concussion.

Jack knew there was no going back to their verbal wars after they had both been to the hospital, too much damage had been done.

_'Cause you feed me fables from your head  
With violent words and empty threats  
And it's sick that all these battles  
Are what keeps me satisfied_

"Where have you been!?" Frank's accusing voice from another one of their arguments danced across Jack's mind. Frank would always seem to think Jack was cheating on him after a few beers, he normally hated the arguments, but it gave him a little insight to what Frank was feeling. Very rarely, they were the time when Frank's impenetrable walls would crumble, and occasionally his flaws would shine through. The cheating arguments, always gave way to Frank's insecurity, and nned for affection.

Jack simply let the argument push forth from the barriers of his mind, and unfold before him.

"Work." His own voice spoke, sounding honest and true. "You know I took some overtime because Jill was out sick."

"Liar." Frank's tone had been harsh and accusing.

"I'm not lying and-" Jack had been ready to defend himself again, but he caught sight of the numerous crumpled beer cans and empty overturned wine glasses littering nearly every countertop in the kitchen. The smell of alcohol had been so strong, Jack was almost drunken from walking in the front door. "Did you drink, _all this_?"

"That's none of your business." Frank had snapped at him, folding his arms.

"So who was it, Casper the friendly ghost?" Jack's sarcastic remark brought a grin to his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had came, fading into oblivion, just like the memory.

"What happened to you?" Jack asked softly, feeling some sort of regret bubbling away inside of his core. "To _us_?" He glanced towards the stairwell, knowing Frank slumbered soundly in their shared bedroom, completely unaware as to what was conspiring in Jack's brain.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts  
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
But that's alright because I love the way you lie  
I love the way you lie  
Ohhh, I love the way you lie_

People always used to ask Jack why he wanted to stay with Frank - especially Rudy, Jerry, Milton, Eddie and Kim - after they saw the evidence of their first physical fight, but Jack wouldn't answer, it sounded too morale when he said it out loud.

He wanted to get Frank help, because he wouldn't just abandon him, he wasn't in a good place, and it was in the Wasabi Code - the code he still lived his life by - to be loyal to your friends. And deep down, Jack knew that Frank still loved him, and vice versa.

Jack pressed a flat, upright palm against his fist. "We swear by the light of the Dragon's eye, to be loyal and honest, and never say die." He whispered softly, exhaling and opening his eyes. "Wasabi."

It wasn't like Frank had broken him down into a shell of his former self, like most relationships which mirrored their own, because Jack was still Jack, and he wasn't going to leave Frank to suffer through it alone - his friends had deserted him after his anger proved too much for them to handle - and he wasn't going to leave him either. And since all the councillors had turned him away, Jack knew there really was only one way to end all this without getting any legal help, or getting unnecessary people involved.

He walked through the archway, stepping into the small utility room. Jack made sure to ingrain every detail of this house in his mind. It would be the last time he ever saw it, but he wasn't leaving, not without Frank. He had suffered too much, and for too long in this world. They both had.

Jack eyed Frank's stash of alcohol, and picked up the two largest bottles of wine he could find, tucking one under each arm. His fingers grasped as many cans of beer as they could hold. He squeezed his arms together to hold the wine bottles there. Jack tiptoed silently into the kitchen, setting the beer cans, and then the wine bottles, carefully retrieving them from under his arms, onto the countertop which held so many memories - both good, and bad.

But to Jack's dismay, the bad outweighed the good.

He unscrewed both bottles of wine, and started on opening the beer cans. His finger slipped into the hole of the ring-pull, and tugged upwards. It made a loud, popping sound. Jack froze instantly, listening for any sign that Frank would wake up. When none made themselves clear, Jack set to opening the beer cans, more quietly this time.

Setting the last one down, he dragged the wine bottles from the counter, and began pouring the liquid onto the tiles. It seeped into the cracks, spreading to the corners of the kitchen, continuously pooling over the floor. Jack bit his lip as he thought about when Frank had cut him so badly across the arm, that his blood had spilt all over the floor. He shook himself from his thoughts as the last few dregs of wine drizzled onto the tiles, splashing against the already large puddle.

He set to work on draining the beer cans.

Jack knew he wasn't crazy, but he also knew there was no turning back at this point. There were too many demons between him and Frank for one to leave the other, and not enough bandages in the world to cover all the bruises and cuts they'd caused each other. Death seemed the only suitable solution.

Sometimes it scared Jack how much he loved Frank, and he him. He cast a glance over the floor, now completely soaked with alcohol, as he set the last empty can of beer beside the others. Jack walked over to the medicine cabinet, his shoes splashing lightly against the liquid soaking the tiles, and opened it, rummaging the shelves, and rifling through boxes, searching.

_So maybe I'm a masochist  
I try to run but I don't wanna ever leave  
Til the walls are goin' up  
In smoke with all our memories_

Jack swiped the match across the rough surface of the small box of "lucky duck" matches, and set it in the corner of the kitchen. The small orange flame grew almost instantly, and began licking up the slithers of alcohol that Jack had splashed over the floor. It would all be over in a few minutes, maybe an hour, and he and Frank would be at peace with each other.

He sat down on the staircase, un-lacing his shoes and discarding them into the wicker basket. Jack crept up the stairs, peering momentarily at the bright light as it stemmed from the kitchen. He stretched on his tiptoes, and yanked the cover off of the smoke detector, taking out the battery. He continued his course for his bedroom.

The door opened with a slight creak, and Jack saw the bundle under the covers on the large double bed shift slightly. He unbuckled his jeans, and slipped them off his body, stepping out of them. His socks were next, and his thick, suffocating work shirt was next, being replaced with a much looser shirt. Jack smelt the faint traces of smoke, and calmly walked over to his side of the bed, climbing under the covers.

This would be the last time either of them would see this house, see this Earth. But they were being cleansed, along with the house which sheltered them from the clueless world around them. Jack turned to face Frank, who was beginning to rouse from his deep sleep.

"Jack?" He whispered, stretching his arm around, his fingers searching for him in the darkness.

"Hey." Jack grasped a hold of Frank's fingers, and shuffled closer to him. He knew Frank hadn't been drinking tonight, and couldn't help the slightest hint of guilt which crept into his body. He dismissed it, and propped his head up on his free hand.

"Thought you were working late tonight?" Frank asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The smell of smoke was getting stronger, but thankfully Frank hadn't smelt it yet. Jack knew the smoke detector would have beeped and alerted Frank by now if he hadn't taken the battery out.

"I got Marcus to cover my shift." Jack responded quietly, ghosting his fingers over Frank's mess of hair.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"Do you love me?" Jack whispered.

"Course I do, what kind of question's that?" Frank sat up with an incredulous look on his face. Jack was almost sorry for this, the dread was creeping up on him, just like the flames which were brewing downstairs.

"Nothing." Jack shook his head. "Nevermind."

"What's that smell?" Frank asked, sniffing the air. Jack strained his ears and heard the crackling of the flames as they snaked ever closer to them both.

"You told me that if I ever tried to leave you, you'd hunt me down-"

"Jack, what have you done?" Frank's face contorted into a look of panic as strands of black smoke began to twirl and dance under the gap in the door.

"This is the only way we can both leave this Frank." Jack lamented, looking at him with apology glistening in his chocolate-brown orbs. "But if you're scared, you can go."

"What, and leave you?" Frank shook his head. "No chance."

"You _are_ scared though, aren't you?" Jack could see the fear beginning to engulf Frank's eyes, much like the flames would engulf _them _in a few short moments.

"A bit." Frank admitted, biting his lip.

"Why did you hit me all those times?" Jack asked him, wanting, _needing _the truth, now, more than ever. He figured that if there was any valid reason behind the punches he'd been dealt by Frank's hands, or if they were really just alcohol induced, their inevitable death would reveal the truth.

"I just-I was-" Frank looked alarmed as he frantically babbled on with a string of broken excuses, searching for a justifiable reason. But they both knew there wasn't one.

"Angry, right?" Jack leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Frank's lips. "I know." He turned over on his side, snuggling into the covers as the strands of smoke began to get darker, more sinister, and their dance became more rapid, more faster. _Only a few minutes now... _Jack thought, shaking on the outside, and raging with guilt on the inside.

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn  
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts  
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry  
But that's alright because  
I love the way you lie_

Jack's eyes opened as he felt Frank's arms slither round his waist from behind him, and his nose nuzzled into his neck. Jack was instantly reminded of the happier times between them, before everything resulted in this, pushing him forwards into doing this.

"I really do love you Jack, and I'm sorry." He whispered, placing a gentle kiss where a faded bruise was, as if he was trying to rid them both of the past memories.

"So am I." Jack whispered back. He inhaled the smell of the thick, oncoming smoke, and seconds later, the bright flames burst forth through the solid oak door. As they consumed the bedroom, encircling the bed in an un-escapable fortress of flames and heat, Jack felt Frank's grip tighten considerably.

Jack took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. A smile snaked its way onto his complexion, he found it somewhat ironic that fire - something that could destroy so many lives and wreck a family - would free them both from this life.

Free them from the Hell on Earth, that they had both created.

~Kickin' it~

**(A/N) So, what did you think guys? **

**Yeah, I know it was a bit dark, and Frank was a bit OOC (in some parts) but a lot of people do that when they're drunk or angry, and I think it fits because Jack, being the loyal person he is, stayed by Frank and wanted to help him - not doing what most people, sadly, do in a relationship like this, and pin their hopes on the fact it was just a one-time thing and refuse to get out of the danger zone - but he fought back and didn't take any shit from him. So, I think Jack was alright in terms of character-ness.**

**Leave reviews please guys, I hope you liked it. :) And did anyone catch why I used the Rihanna song? Well done if you did.**


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